Detention, Drama, and a lot of Draco
by Celtic Princess
Summary: Chapter Three. Draco/Sinistra. *grins at the obvious pun* And a bonus letter to a flamer. Sarcasm galore.
1. Enter the Draco

Is it just me, or do the male teachers at Hogwarts get all the action? You know what I'm talking about. The Snape stories. The Lupin stories. Most of which involve Hermione, a student. Gosh dang it, it's time for the lady professors to get some underage action! That having been said, I humbly present....  
  
Draco-Sinistra.   
Ha ha, nah, just kidding.  
Don't hurt me, Cassandra Claire.  
  
My own horribly uncreative title is:  
Detention, Drama, and a lot of Draco  
  
I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything, gosh dang her.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Sigh. Another day, another seventeen Sickles. I deserve a raise. Dumbledore really needs to up the salary of his teachers; no one will want the Defense Against the Dark Arts job under these conditions.  
  
I surveyed my surroundings. Nasty little things, students are. The smaller ones are too stupid to talk to, and the older ones are too smart-alecky to teach. The seventh-year Slytherins and Gryffindors were, of course, bickering. Impressed upon at an early age to despise each other. How idiotic. Even Hermione Granger, who had the most sense of all of them, was looking daggers at Malfoy, who had called her a Mudblood. Again.  
  
And oh, look. There's Sir Ron, come to save his lady from the fire-breathing dragon (my, what an apt phrase). It never ends. Never, never, never.  
  
"Mister Weasley, sit down. Honestly, after so many of these occurrences, one would think you'd realize Malfoy is just trying to push your buttons. Five points from Gryffindor for being so hot-headed."  
  
"But Professor Sinistra, I---  
  
"And Malfoy, you'll be getting a detention for calling Granger a Mudblood. Again. For my sake, while I'm having you rearrange my bookshelves, do try and think of some new insults. I'm rather tired of having to punish you for the same words over and over again. And fifteen points from Slytherin."  
  
Well, at least Malfoy didn't argue back. Sat and glowered at me with those odd grey eyes. Don't know why; I thought he'd be used to them by now. I've given him more detentions than any other student this year. Almost as if he WANTED to spend his evenings dusting my cupboards and polishing the desktops. Well, he is a Malfoy. Lucius was always rather odd too. Always looking for trouble during mealtimes all those years ago.  
  
They had the same eyes, Draco and Lucius. Something I'd noticed one evening as Draco was alphabetizing my microscope slides. Silly boy hadn't understood the concept of a Muggle microscope. He caught on rather quickly, though, when I explained it to him. He WAS rather bright, thought it pained me to admit it.   
  
I snapped my head back to attention. Neville Longbottom had just created....well, he had created a mess. Honestly, that boy is the closest thing to a Squib I've ever seen. Severus says his potions are simply awful. But Severus says a lot of things about Gryffindor students; you can't really believe them all. Never got over Lily, that one....  
  
Ah well. At least this time, Neville's mistake was easily repaired. A simple Sponging Spell and everything was right again. Good. And the bell rang. Doubly good. Another class over. Another day over. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then saw Malfoy sulking out of the doorway. My eyes narrowed involuntarily.  
  
"Mister Malfoy, I need to speak with you. You will stay after class a few minutes."  
  
Malfoy turned and leveled those strange eyes at me. God, I despised those eyes. They frightened me. I forced myself to look at his eyebrows instead. Always arranged in a quizzical, sarcastic expression. Always.   
  
I waited until the room emptied and motioned for Malfoy to have a seat. He remained standing. Headstrong, like his father. That, however, I could not blame him for. I had heard the Malfoy family had always been rather proud. By the same token, so had the Sinistras. I couldn't begrudge him his pride.   
  
"Mister Malfoy, I don't know what to make of your behavior in my class. It's been growing steadily worse since the beginning of the term. D'you have any explanations you'd like to give for your actions?"  
  
Malfoy just stared at me. Inwardly, I shuddered.  
  
"Very well. Since you have nothing to say, I'll see you this evening at 8:00 for your detention. I'd advise you to wear your least favorite robes; the bookshelves are a tad dusty," I said, a malevolent grin spreading over my face. It was fun making a Malfoy suffer. Too bad Draco never seemed to suffer that much. I turned back to my desk, arranging my books to leave.  
  
"I have lots of things to say, Professor Sinistra."  
  
I wheeled around. Did Malfoy actually speak? Did he actually deign to respond to a teacher's questions? My, this was progress indeed.  
  
"Oh, really? Anything in particular you'd like to get off your chest? Perhaps an apology for always disrupting my classes?" I snapped.  
  
"No. No apologies. I'm not very good at apologies," he said, walking forward, those damned grey eyes never leaving mine. I looked down.  
  
"I can well believe it. If you have nothing important to say, then, Malfoy, I'd advise you to go and get some rest before your detention. Some of the books are rather hefty. Wouldn't want you to overstrain yourself." I picked up my books and turned to leave.  
  
Malfoy blocked my way. Those awful, steel eyes bore holes into mine. What the hell was he doing? I tried to shove my way past and dropped most of my books in the process. Stupid boy was going to make me late for tea. I glared at him.  
  
"Pick up my books, Malfoy."  
  
He glared back at me.   
  
"No," he said in a very low voice.   
  
"What? You'll pick up those books now or-  
  
My sentence was cut short as Malfoy abruptly grabbed my shoulders and placed his mouth on mine.   
  
Some instinctive, unseen part of me melted into the kiss, returning Malfoy's passion and intensity. I hated that part of myself. I felt my eyes, at first wide with the shock of Malfoy's sudden actions, close lazily.  
  
His hands moved from my shoulders to my face, as Malfoy gently cupped my head in his hands. Oh, God...his hands were warm against my skin...They moved to my hair, his fingers removing the carefully placed pins, allowing my hair to escape, allowing it to tumble down my shoulders. His hands...his hands in my hair...  
  
Wait a minute! What the hell am I doing? I am KISSING a STUDENT. I could lose my job for this! I'd be fired without a place to go, without a Knut to my name! I'd have to live in the streets!  
  
My eyes snapped open and I quickly pushed Malfoy away. Those cold grey eyes were filled with uncharacteristic warmth and confusion.  
  
"Malfoy, we can't do this," I said, breathing heavily. I could see Draco's chest heaving as well. "We can't do this. I could lose my job. This is going against every rule in the book!" I suddenly shrieked, losing my reserve. My career was flashing before my eyes. And Draco was advancing toward me, a predator stalking its prey. I backed away, stumbling over my fallen, forgotten books.  
  
"M-Malfoy, you have to listen to me. This c-c-can't happen. You're a student and I-I-I-I-  
  
"You're my teacher," he said, still advancing. I backed into a wall and he swiftly placed his arms on either side of me. Damn it, I was trapped. There was a hunger in his eyes. A hunger frightening in its intensity.  
  
"Yes, I-I'm your teacher, Malfoy," I stammered.  
  
He lowered his head (God, he was tall) conspiratorially to mine. I could feel his breath on my cheeks.  
  
"So teach me," he breathed, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine.  
  
Where did he LEARN lines like these? I wondered to myself. He's your student! He's just a child! Oh my God, does that "child" have his tongue in my mouth? Where did he learn THAT?!? I know I never-Oh no, what's he doing now? ....Oh, that's nice. Oh, that's VERY nice. Wow. That's GOT to be a bit of magic. I'll lose my job for this...Dumbledore will sack me...My God, his hands are warm. Warm and wonderful...  
  
I shouldn't allow this. I should be having tea now, not snogging with a student! He's my STUDENT! He's underage! He's...he's...oh, he's kissing my neck. Oh, no no no...that's not good. Hey! Where's that hand wandering? A tad too adventurous there, Mister Malfoy. Oh........oh no...heaven help me........oh WOW. How many rules am I breaking? What would Dumbledore say? Now hold on, you can stop right there, my robes are staying ON, thank you! How the hell did he make his tongue do that? No, no, that's quite far enough, Malfoy...........Oh, I have to stop this, I have to....wait, what am I leaning on? Oh my, is that his...?  
  
"Enough!" I gasped. "That's quite enough, Malfoy!"  
  
"Oh, do call me Draco," he drawled, still nuzzling my neck. He raised his head and grinned at me. I frowned.  
  
"I'm supposed to be punishing you for acting out in my class," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest.  
  
"Yes, I've been a naughty boy, haven't I? I think I deserve a-he lowered his voice to a whisper-a good spanking." Draco's eyes glittered mischievously.   
  
Something inside me snapped.  
  
"What, is this a GAME to you? 'Let's see how far we can get with the female Professors'? Who's next on the list? McGonagall? Trelawney?" I roared. Draco loosened me from his grasp.  
  
"No, Professor, I thought-  
  
"Oh, you thought you'd get out of a detention instead. Work the old Malfoy charm on clueless Professor Sinistra. Give the old girl a thrill and then get off scot-free," I sneered.  
  
Draco let go of me entirely and stalked across the room. The warmth and humor that had previously been in his eyes were replaced with their usual coldness.  
  
"Draco, I could lose my JOB because of this!" I cried. "D'you understand how serious that is? I can't afford to lose my position at Hogwarts all because you can't control your hormones!"  
  
He stared at me, those eyes icy with fury.  
  
"That wasn't 'all because I can't control my hormones'," he spat. "I'm very good at self-control. You, of all people, should know that. I'm not just 'working the Malfoy charm' either." He stopped and looked down at my books.  
  
"D'you want to know WHY I keep getting detentions from you, Professor?" he said suddenly. "I've fallen into some form of love with you."  
  
My eyes widened in shock. Before I could reply, Draco continued.  
  
"I know, I know. A student in love with a professor, it's such a cliché. I'm really quite ashamed of my own lack of creativity, I'll have you know. But the damage has been done. I'm quite smitten. There IS the age difference, though. You've got to be at LEAST what? 25?" he grinned, and went on. "And it would never work, the sneaking around. And if we were caught, I'd be expelled and you'd be fired. And then my father would murder me and you'd have to sing at my funeral."  
  
My mind was, of course, racing. How could he love me? He didn't know anything about love. He didn't know anything about me! Well, maybe he did. We always had long and pointless conversations during his detentions. But still...he was a student! I eased myself onto a bench and cradled my head in my arms.  
  
Draco slid next to me on the bench. He planted his chin on my shoulder.   
  
"You would, wouldn't you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sing at my funeral," he grinned. I gave him a slight smile.  
  
"What would I sing?"  
  
"Hmm. Well, I'd prefer a horribly sappy love song and have you burst into tears while you sing it. If it's not too much trouble, that is," he smiled.  
  
I sighed and looked at him, his chin still on my shoulder. I could see a mustache just beginning to form above his upper lip. He was so young. So, so young.  
  
"Malfoy, how old are you?" I asked. He frowned.  
  
"I thought you were going to start calling me Draco. And I'll have you know I turned 18 nearly a month ago. Not a jury in the world could convict you!" he said triumphantly.  
  
"Well, I hadn't planned on doing anything to cause me to be put on trial," I said hastily. "And there is quite a difference between your age and mine."  
  
"Rubbish. Age ain't nothing but a number anyhow."  
  
I sighed again. "So what are we going to do now?"  
  
Draco's face broke into a devilish grin. "Well, I liked that 'spanking' idea, myself," he teased.  
  
"You know what I meant. I meant this whole thing (I waved my hands expressively) with us."  
  
"Oh," Draco said simply. He clasped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I didn't have the heart (or the energy) to resist.  
  
While I was in his arms, I could feel his heart beating, feel him breathing in and out. He was so young. But oh, if this could somehow miraculously work...  
  
"I should go," Draco said suddenly.  
  
"Yes, that's a good idea," I agreed. His arms tightened around me for a moment, and then he stood to leave.   
  
"Professor Sinistra, I don't know your first name."  
  
"Oh...it's Cecelia."  
  
"Cecelia...that's a beautiful name. Goodbye, Professor Cecelia Sinistra."  
  
"Goodbye, Mister Draco Malfoy. And don't forget your detention this evening."  
  
He grinned. "I can't wait." I smiled and waved as he sauntered out of the door. I watched the door close gently behind him.  
  
"Neither can I."  



	2. Draco...dusting?

That afternoon passed uncharacteristically quickly. I jumped every time someone entered my classroom; I felt sure Dumbledore or McGonagall were going to burst through the door with my dismissal papers any minute. A student had kissed me. What's more, I had kissed him back.  
  
As I tidied up the room, I unconsciously formed lists in my mind. Lists of Malfoy's flaws, lists of his perfections. Lists of the horrible repercussions that could arise from pursuing a relationship (did Malfoy even WANT a relationship?) with a student.   
  
I heard the door open and close, and I didn't look back. If Dumbledore was going to fire me, he would have to fire my back.  
  
"I've come for my detention, Professor."  
  
Malfoy stood near the doorway, his arms folded over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes roved me, I could almost FEEL them undressing me.  
  
Inwardly, I grinned. Poor dear's trying to be seductive. Very well, I can play along.  
  
I turned very slowly and tossed my hair over my shoulder. His eyes flashed. In the deepest, throatiest, sultriest tone I could muster, I purred, "Hello, Malfoy."  
  
For a moment, Draco lost his famous Malfoy reserve as I saw his jaw drop. I chuckled softly as I advanced on him, slowly and assuredly. Finally, I got to be the predator. I saw something like fear flicker across his facial features as Malfoy stammered.  
  
"I-I thought I told you to call me Draco."  
  
I stood two feet in front of him, my hands behind my back, taking him in. Yes, he was very handsome. Nice hair. Suddenly I grabbed his collar and yanked him toward me.  
  
Our faces inches apart, I whispered, "I'll call you whatever the hell I want." His eyes widened in shock. I could barely contain my laughter as I continued.  
  
"Malfoy, I'm going to give you something I've never shared with a student, and a very few men besides. I certainly hope you're up to a challenge; I've not had a man use this gift to my satisfaction. Will you be able to please me?" I asked, my eyes dancing. I could feel his breath, staggered and uneven. His body suddenly shuddered against mine. He composed himself long enough to form a response.  
  
"I know I will," he growled. I could feel his body tense with anticipation. Oh, this was too much fun.  
  
"All right," I purred. "Now close your eyes and hold out your hand." I nearly lost my composure as he smirked and closed his eyes lazily.  
  
"Cecelia, dear, I'll rock your world."  
  
"Good to know," I whispered in his ear, as I slid into his outstretched palm.....a pink feather duster. Draco opened his eyes and quickly looked down.  
  
"Now get to work!" I cried jovially. "Those bookshelves aren't going to rearrange themselves!"  



	3. Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson...

All right, moi dyetye, I should be apologizing profusely for not having updated this silly little series in what....three months? Oi! Isvenitye, moi  
krasivvuiy chelovyeki. Ya ni znayu, ya ni znayu...  
  
(I've been taking Russian. Can you tell?)  
  
Well, I don't know how well-received this will be after three months of silence, but I can always try to win back your affection, can't I? But of  
course. On with the story!  
  
Detention, Drama, and a lot of Draco....Part Three  
AND a Rather Stinging Rebuttal to PikaCheeka, giver of My First Flame Ever  
  
For what it's worth, maya druzya.....Chapter Three.  
Enjoy?  
  
It's really very enjoyable watching him work, I thought to myself. Draco had been dusting the bookshelves for nearly two hours, and one of us  
had loved every minute of it. One of us whose name was not Malfoy.  
  
When did he stop being scrawny? I wondered. Puberty had been very good to Draco Malfoy, apparently. He wasn't the tiny, porcelain first year  
I remembered. He had grown quite tall, and his shoulders had broadened magnificently. Yes, he was quite easy on the eyes, that one. He did  
need a haircut, though. Those trademark silver-blonde Malfoy locks were a bit of a vanity point with him. Oh, the laughs we had all had in the  
faculty lounge after hours as Severus told us of the "pep talk" Draco gave his hair in the morning.  
  
"All right, boys, you've got to look good because today we've got double Charms with Ravenclaw and Mandy Brocklehurst has been giving us  
the Eye ..." Snape snickered as we all burst into laughter. Even Trelawney had been giggling.   
  
My eyes watered as I tried not to chuckle from the memory. Draco cast me a puzzled glance and I bit my lip as I inadvertently wondered what  
he had told that shock of pale hair before he came to my detention. Probably "win one for the Gipper" ... although if he thought I was going  
anywhere NEAR the "Gipper" tonight, he was dead wrong...  
  
And that thought tore it. I snorted with laughter, and as Draco cast those icy grey eyes at me, I lost whatever semblance of composure I once  
had. Shrieks of laughter bounced off the classroom walls and I could see Draco, through the merriment-induced tears in my eyes, staring at me  
curiously.  
  
"Really, Celia, if you don't stop soon, I'll be forced to call Madam Pomfrey."  
  
Between laughs, I replied, "No, I'm all right. Really."  
  
"Well, compose yourself then. People will wonder what I'm doing to you," he grinned lasciviously. I suddenly felt light-headed as several  
interesting scenarios flickered through my mind ... most of them involving Draco and the feather duster he wielded. Shaking myself, I grinned  
charmingly at him.  
  
"You can count on me ... Coach," I said before I could stop myself. Draco shook his head and resumed his dusting as I howled with laughter.  
  
***  
  
"There. Finished," he said suddenly as he slammed a book onto the highest shelf. I didn't notice; I was busy grading Parvati Patil's  
Constellations essay.  
  
"Honestly, it's S-A-G-I-T-T-A-R-I-U-S! And Orion does NOT have a pair of matching shoes for his belt ..." I clutched my hair in frustration  
and glanced up from my work. Malfoy was leaning on my desk, his elbows propped on the surface and his chin resting in his palms.  
  
"Gryffindors," I muttered, rolling my eyes.  
  
"Did anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're angry?" Draco asked suddenly.  
  
"Did anyone ever tell you you have feathers in your hair?" I countered, as I picked a bit of pink fluff out of his silken Malfoy strands.   
  
"Stupid duster," he murmured.  
  
"Ooh, leave them. Witch Weekly did a wonderful article last week about the magical powers of certain feathers."  
  
"Mmm ... are these feathers found in dusters?" Draco smiled, unfolding his legs and sliding over to my chair in one liquid movement.  
  
"Well, who knows? You might get lucky," I smirked at him.  
  
"Oh, I DO hope so," Draco drawled. He slid behind my chair and snaked his arms around my waist. Yes, this boy was certainly a Slytherin.   
  
I raised my eyebrows. "Y'know, Draco, I believe I may have given you the wrong impression earlier today."  
  
"And how is that, m'lady?" he asked, muzzling my neck. Oh God ...  
  
"I'm not normally that forward when responding to someone's advances ..."  
  
"So I'm just lucky then, aren't I?" Draco murmured, his attention still occupied with layering soft kisses on my collarbone. I stifled a small  
gasp.  
  
"Oh, now enough of that. Can't have you thinking I'm easy, now, can I?" I said forcefully, unlocking Draco's hands from around my waist and  
slipping out of my seat. I could see confusion flash through his eyes. Strange, they looked almost wistful. I began to walk around the room.  
  
"Celia, believe me when I say that you are just about as far away from 'easy' as is humanly possible," and at this he grinned. "Hell, if you were  
easy, I'd have had you in bed two hours ago."  
  
"Is that so?" I asked sarcastically. "Pardon me for not succumbing to your intense and brooding Malfoy aura, then. I hope your libido will  
forgive me."  
  
"Oh, I don't know. My libido's very sensitive, you may have caused it permanent damage."  
  
"The body-glitter, stilletos-and-hot-pants sort of damage?" I grinned, envisioning Malfoy prancing around in a feather boa and a bustier. Quite  
hilarious.  
  
"Perhaps. But I'm afraid that sort of damage would be too devastating to you," Draco grinned as well, stroking a finger along my jawline.  
"You'd cry yourself to sleep, wondering what might have been."  
  
I leveled my gaze at his and pretended to survey him critically.  
  
"Y'know, Malfoy, I have an old pair of short-shorts you might find very useful, if the time comes."  
  
Oh dear. That came out ALL wrong ...  
  
Draco grinned. "I suppose I'll show my warm and generous side by not ripping you apart for that last comment."  
  
I glared at him. "I believe you detention is over, Mr. Malfoy. You're free to leave." I sat down on the edge of my desk. Bad move on my part,  
and Draco knew it. Instantly, his hands were clenched to the desk on either side of me, his face inches from mine. Mrs. Robinson never had this  
problem, I thought. SHE was always in charge. I felt more like Mary Kay LeTourneau ...  
  
"Oh, but Professor, I haven't been punished ..." Draco said in the best sultry whisper his eighteen-year-old voice could muster. "You still have  
to punish me ..." his eyes locked with mine, "I've been an awfully naughty boy ..." his breath misted on my cheeks, "I deserve it."  
  
My eyes narrowed. I was tired of being his prey, damn it. This child wanted punishing? I could supply. I turned to him and smiled.  
  
I made my eyes soft and heavy-lidded. "Draco," I murmured, startled at how drugged my voice sounded. I slid my hands up the front of Draco's  
school robes and unfastened the top button. "Draco ..." I whispered again as I slid off the desk, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating  
from his body. I unfastened the second button ... and the third ... and the fourth ...  
  
Draco's body shuddered as I brushed the bare skin under his collarbone. Oh, it wouldn't be long now ... I smiled lazily as Draco's hands  
released their death grip on my desk and wrapped tentatively around my waist ...  
  
And in a flash of arms and legs and robes, I had trapped him. The look of utter shock on Draco's face as I sat astride him on the desk was  
absolutely priceless.  
  
"Cel, what the h--"  
  
I didn't let him finish. I brought my lips crushing down on his before he could complete his sentence. I could feel his gasp in my mouth; I was  
being a bit rough with him. Well, no turning back now.  
  
I ran my tongue along his lips, opening them not-too-gently and probing inside. I grinned as I heard Draco whimper when I ran my tongue  
along his teeth and when he trembled against me. His hands roved over my back, but I grabbed them and pinned them above his head. As I  
broke the kiss, Draco frantically whispered, "Celia, what's going on?"  
  
"Punishment," I said cryptically before silencing him with another burning kiss. As I kissed him, I pushed Draco's robes aside, leaving his chest  
bare. I could feel his hands circle around my waist again, resting on my hips. Well, nothing a little Binding Spell couldn't fix. Draco and I both  
smiled as the ropes wound around his wrists. I had misjudged him. He seemed to be enjoying himself. I gazed at his chest. A bit pale, but  
otherwise satisfactory.  
  
Draco asked suddenly, "Like what you see?"  
  
I grinned at him. "Well, you're not Slytherin Seeker for nothing. And I'd ask you the same thing, but it seems that I already have my answer," I  
laughed, as I rocked my hips a bit against the bulge under Draco's robes. He uttered a soft moan as his hips bucked involuntarily.  
  
"Now that's what I like to hear," I smirked, before I lowered myself to his chest.  
  
I had decided at the beginning that this would be his punishment: to tease him as close as I could to the verge, and then leave him. But as I  
teased, as I licked and nipped and kissed, as I grazed his left nipple with my teeth, I noticed that aside from a few groans and throaty growls,  
Draco was remarkably self-possessed. Interesting ... I had expected him to groan and plead for completion ... other men, more experienced than  
he, had always done so. Maybe this little whelp wasn't all hormones. Damn. Guilt began to seep in.  
  
I shouldn't try to take advantage of him in such a cruel way. He was young, yes, but Draco Malfoy had more willpower than any other man I'd  
ever met. Waves of shame coursed through me.  
  
I laid my head on his chest and felt the steady rise and fall of his ribcage.  
  
"Why'd you stop?" Draco asked. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't have an answer. Besides, I was too comfortable and too tired to say anything  
or move. It had been a long day. I closed my eyes and could feel myself drifting into unconsciousness when something called me.  
  
"Hmm?" I answered sleepily.  
  
"D'you think you could undo these ropes? It's rather frustrating trying to hold you when I'm all trussed up."  
  
"Finite incantatem," I muttered, as I wrapped my arms around his chest. Young or not, Draco Malfoy was a very able pillow. As I sailed into  
oblivion, the last thing I recalled was two strong arms pulling me close and ensconcing me in warm robes.  
  
It was a comfortable feeling.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
And now the Rebuttal to my First Flame Ever:  
  
Hi, Pikacheeka. So glad you enjoyed the story. A few notes on your review, though. I have a few questions.  
  
First, I was under the impression that exclamation marks (y'know, the ! you used so proficiently) were not means for communication when  
used by themselves. I thought they were merely punctuation, not to be used stand-alone. (Or with 622 of their friends, as you saw fit to use  
them.) But hey, maybe that's just me. I'll be sure to check and see if exclamation points, by themselves, are a grammatically correct way of  
expressing emotion.   
  
Because I know I felt EXACTLY what you were feeling when you used them. The emotions were just so clear and understandable. They're  
such articulate punctuation marks.   
  
As for the new character....erm.....no? Professor Sinistra was mentioned in Book Four. She's a member of the Astronomy Department at  
Hogwarts. Mad-Eye danced with her at the Yule Ball. So I think that effectively rules out your most compelling argument that she is a "Mary  
Sue." So no, you can NOT say that. Sorry.  
  
I'm so glad I was a recipient of one of your ballistic flames. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, to know I'm a member of a select club of  
ingrates whose sole purpose in life is honking off YOU, and YOU PERSONALLY, PikaCheeka. I've been to a club meeting, and I must say,  
my fellow members are a delightful bunch. We're working on coming up with a mission statement. I'm on the Appropriations Committee. As  
for using a new name, well, I do admit that I'm gutless. But there are a few readers that know who I am, and if they desire, I give them full  
permission to tell whomever they choose my real identity. I DID give you all a clue in my Bio. Should I give another one now? All right. Colin  
Creepy. Good enough?  
  
No, I am NOT Professor Sinistra. I resent that; she's got severe mental issues that I hope I'll never have to address. But hey, she does have an  
18-year-old Draco pawing her, so....maybe that would make up for something. I'm so sorry you thought this would be about Herm and Draco; I  
didn't say anything about Hermione in the summary, I don't know where you got it from, but hey, it's bound to be my fault somehow, right?  
Right. Couldn't be that you didn't READ the summary well enough.....no, no. NEVER.  
  
I rated the story PG-13. It wasn't graphic. I could show you a few graphic fics. I don't have the balls to write anything very graphic. That's why  
Celia is such a tease.  
  
I'm so sorry my story made you physically ill. Did you see a doctor? if not, can I give you my number? She's very excellent with anger  
management. What COULD I be hinting at?  
  
And I am so TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY sorry that you had lots of homework and have been stressed out. Oh, I'm sure Celia and Draco would  
crawl on their knees and caress your poor, aching feet with their tears if they knew the heartache they had caused you. Dear me, to think of  
having to do all sorts of homework and then HAVING to log on to the internet and HAVING to go to fanfiction.net and HAVING to read my  
story.....oh, you are such a victim and I'm crying buckets just thinking of your miserable situation.  
  
I feel wretched for having caused you such emotional, psychological, and physical anguish. May my writing hand be cut off, burned, thrown  
to the dogs, and may all my pens and pencil be taken away. I am not worthy to write another word as long as I live, for I have offended the  
great PIKACHEEKA. I only pray that someday you will forgive me.  
  
Although I will NEVER forgive myself.  
  
Sincerely,  
Celtic Princess  
  
PS it's spelled "again." 


End file.
